


Hidden Prince

by Kingless



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Adoption, AgedDown!Mingi, AgedDown!Yunho, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternative Universe - Kingdom, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Arranged Marriage, Attendant!Seonghwa, Betrayal, Creampie, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, FakePriest!Yeosang, Falling In Love, First Time, Guard!Jongho, Kissing, M/M, Oral Sex, Princes & Princesses, Princess!Wooyoung, Riding, Rimming, Secret Identity, Secrets, Slow Burn, Trust Issues, Wedding Night, Weddings, prince!san
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-18 00:07:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29974353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kingless/pseuds/Kingless
Summary: San is a dreamer. He's always been caught in books or peering out windows, he's a romantic too. But more than anything, he's loyal to his mother and his kingdom. So when he turns eighteen and his mother brings him the proposition drawn up by a neighboring kingdom, San is more than willing to trade his hand in marriage for the prosperity of their kingdom and their people. San is going to marry princess Jung Wooyoung of the Orsian Kingdom. But something about this princess is...strange. Aside from the fact that her name is on the masculine side.Their King says per their customs no one is allowed to look upon her face until her wedding day aside from their own personal priest. Not only that, but she has to spend her days in a church where no one else can be for fear of angering some god they've never heard of. It all reeks of something odd, but even so. San finds himself curious about her, the letters they send aren’t enough. They only make him desperate to know more, so he goes snooping around the church days before the wedding. After all, he wants to truly know his bride to be. What he finds, however, is far more than he bargains for.
Relationships: Choi Jongho/Kang Yeosang, Choi San/Jung Wooyoung
Comments: 8
Kudos: 38





	1. A Study of Choi San

There's a bubble of quiet here. San can hear all of the bustling, the impending disruption to the calm of his day. He knew what today was, of course. He had been expecting the noise, the rushing, the sheer panic of some of the hand maids. San himself, though, was calm. He had no other choice but to be. While it wasn’t entirely his disposition to be quiet and well behaved, it was his disposition to listen to his mother. His mother, who had hours ago, at breakfast, gave him a tender look accompanied by a gentle plea. 

“Do as Seonghwa asks, today is very important for all of us.” So San was subdued. He was dressed, primed and ready for the meeting to take place in just a few short hours. He’s spent the rest of his morning in the music room, a book across his knees. Listening to the gasps and shouts of the handmaids as they readied the rest of the castle. 

San had to admit, he was a tad bit excited. This was his betrothal, after all. Arranged or not, San was looking forward to meeting this princess. He had thought through so many scenarios, how they’d meet, if they’d get along. If they’d fall in love one day, or if they’d be like San’s mother and father. Do their due diligence to their kingdom, produce an heir, and take mistress upon paramore upon lover. 

Admittedly, San wished for the former. His mother was happy enough, she always said so. Happy that a loveless, political marriage had brought her a wonderful gift like him. But San didn’t want that. He wanted to whisk his wife away when the kingdom was quiet, to romance her, make her laugh. To create a love entirely unique to them. San sighed to himself, turning the page of his book. The story lost on him. He closed the book, he could only hope. 

The doors to the music room were thrown open, drawing San’s attention. A man with a long swoop of black hair in a nice waist coat came bustling, sweeping his gaze around before spotting San. The man heaved a sigh, 

“Thank goodness, there you are” he said, San stood up, tossing his book onto his chair. 

“Is there a reason you’re running around like the castle’s on fire, Seonghwa?” San asked, tucking his hands into his pockets. 

“Yes! She’s here” Seonghwa hissed, tugging at San’s lapels and fixing his hair. San felt his stomach tighten, 

“Early?” he asked, 

“They’ve just arrived at the gates, we weren’t expecting them till afternoon” Seonghwa huffed, looking far more frazzled than San had seen him in a while. San pressed Seonghwa’s hands away from their fussing, 

“I’ll greet them, is my mother aware of their arrival?” San asked, already edging toward the door. Seonghwa gravitated with him, lips pursed. 

“She’s already gone to greet them, are you sure you’re ready to do this?” he stressed, San regarded his friend. His steward and caretaker. San had expressed his anxiety about the arranged marriage before, but he also expressed his excitement. It was just like Seonghwa to latch onto the more unsettling of San’s feelings. 

San smiled, patting Seonghwa on the shoulders. 

“As ready as I’ll ever be, but I’ll need you there you know. Every step of the way” San said, Seonghwa’s expression softened. 

“Of course, my dying duty is to see you through your reign San” Seonghwa said, resting a hand over San’s. A gentle, familiar feeling filled San’s chest. Seonghwa really had been there through everything, big and small. San could never appreciate him more. He took a deep if subtle breath, 

“Let’s go meet my future wife, shall we?” San said with a bright smile, Seonghwa straightened his back and went ahead to open the door. San fixed his cuffs as he followed, settling his thoughts. 

Whatever comes of their first meeting was not telling of their entire relationship, San reminded himself. Over and over again as they passed through marble floored halls, beneath glittering chandeliers, and between jade pillars. All the way until San stood before the grand fountain at the head of the main hall of the castle. There were guards lined up the pass, the kingdom’s flags waving in a gentle breeze overhead. 

“My prince” San hardly startled at Jongho’s voice, the guard sliding like a shadow up to San’s shoulder. “Feeling well?” he asked in a low voice, a friend's voice. San was at ease with Seonghwa at his left and Jongho at his right, 

“Better than ever” San said quietly, spotting his mother’s carriage rising over the hill toward the pass. Toward them. 

“Is that his honest answer?” Jongho asked, peering at Seonghwa. 

“He’s been calmer than I’ve been” Seonghwa murmured, San couldn’t help his satisfied smile. The carriage rumbled up the pass, through the line of guards and up to the fountain. Seonghwa rushed to get the door but San reached out, catching his elbow.

“Let me” San said, skin buzzing with anxiety and something eager that had lived in him since the moment his mother brought the proposal to him. Seonghwa moved back, clasping his hands together as he stood beside Jongho in line. San went to the carriage door, pulling it open. 

His mother peered down when he did, smiling at the sight of him. San returned the gesture, offering his hand. 

“Adding to your gentleman’s streak, Sannie?” his mother asked softly, taking it and gathering her soft, blue gown in her free hand. While his mother showed signs of age, she never failed to dress like she was made of porcelain. 

“Whatever do you mean? I’m a gentleman at heart, you raised me that way” San said, helping her down the two steps until she was upright. His mother gave him a bright eyed look and a subtle nod before moving toward the line of handmaids, her parasol waiting for her. 

San swallowed the spit in his mouth and faced the carriage, startled when he found a man climbing out after his mother. He stepped down, brushing down his long, white robe once he was on two feet. He peered at San, blinking twice before something seemed to occur to him. He bowed, 

“Ahem, prince San I presume” he said, the man straightened and San took a better look at him. He had very pretty features, pale, crimped hair, and the most peculiar birthmark at his temple. “I’m Kang Yeosang, attendant and priest to...Lady Wooyoung” he said, it clicked. San recalled now, the strange thing about the princess. 

The kingdom they hailed from, though small, was apparently very religious. So when a figure dressed in a pale, pink dress stepped down from the carriage San was only a little shocked to see the veil over her head. In fact, every inch of her was covered in layers of the sheer, pearlescent fabric. From gloves to the neck of her dress that San could hardly make out through the veil. Someone cleared their throat behind them, San jumped when he realized it was Seonghwa prompting him to speak. As he’d done a thousand times during San’s coronation, public speeches, and diplomatic meetings. 

“Princess, it’s...lovely to meet you” San bowed, the princess shifted into a slow curtsy, careful of her dress. San straightened up and offered his hand, a small smile as well. 

“I’m sorry my prince, but the princess isn’t to touch your hand until you’re wed. I’m sure you went over the stipulations of your betrothal?” Yeosang butted in, San blinked and curled his hand a bit. Stipulations...ah..

“Of course, my apologies” San flashed his winning smile, dimples and all. 

“Princess, we’ve prepared a meal in preparation for your arrival. A celebration, of sorts” Seonghwa stepped in, allowing San a moment to gather himself. 

“As stated in the stipulations as well, the princess can only dine in your church. Alone. No is allowed to peer upon her face until after her wedding night” Yeosang said, how many of these ridiculous stipulations were there? 

“A-ah of course, we’ll have a handmaiden bring her meals to the...church, then” Seonghwa mended carefully, 

“You can have them left on the stoop, I’ll retrieve them for her” Yeosang said, his expression seemed to stay neutral the entire time that he spoke. It was almost unnerving. San swept his gaze over to the princess, tracing the lines of her veil in a weak attempt to see her face. She hadn’t spoken one word and San could feel his hopes diminishing. 

“I’ll show you to the church, then” Seonghwa smiled cordially, gesturing up the pass. Yeosang nodded, allowing the princess to walk ahead of him. San watched them go, disappointment unfurling in him. San met his mother’s gaze across the way, she gave him a gentle smile before she turned to return to the castle. 

The guards stayed, as they always did. San did too, though. Jongho approached him, 

“Weren’t you prepared for this?” he asked, San put a hand into his pocket, the other fiddling with a strand of loose hair against his forehead. 

“I remember Seonghwa mentioning the stipulations, but there are so many. Isn’t this a bit too much? I can’t even look at her face? She didn’t speak even once, Jongho” San said, a bit strung out with the encounter. Jongho gave San a pitying look, 

“It’ll be done with once you’re married, right?” Jongho said, San dropped his hand from his forehead with a sigh. 

“Three weeks...three weeks of knowing she’s there but not getting to speak to her, or see her. I truly won’t know who I’m marrying the day of our wedding” San said, something sour growing on his tongue. 

“A marriage of convenience, it happens to many great kings” Jongho said, it did but San was not one of them. He wanted to fall in love, that princess was the only one he had a chance with. “Let’s go settle you in for the celebration, hm?” Jongho said, nodding toward the castle. 

“Celebration” San scoffed, but he went anyway. His thoughts swarmed with that veil, that priest...his wedding. 

It’s pretty here. Much prettier than Orsia. Wooyoung could get used to a place like this, he supposed he was going to have to. The anxiety keeping his gut tight, though, didn’t leave room for him to enjoy the trees or the weather. Or even the beauty of the castle as they followed the straight backed man through hall after hall. 

Wooyoung was a sham, he knew, Yeosang knew. Hell, his father knew. This was his doing, after all. But no one here, not the queen or the guards or even his poor sap of a future husband knew. Wooyoung was no princess. 

Orsia was in dire need of allies. They had no resources, no one to trade with. They were only days from collapsing beneath the weight of angry citizens, tired of their lack. So Wooyoung’s father had hatched a plan. With no princess’s looking to marry, he began hiding Wooyoung beneath this damn veil. Spreading the rumor that he was offering his daughter’s hand in marriage to any prince with good resources, decent exports, and that would be accepting of all these ‘religious stipulations’. 

Wooyoung was shocked it worked. Even after the disaster of a first meeting with the queen. His father hadn’t been able to keep his crown let alone his lies straight. Wooyoung was sure the queen would have seen their scam from a mile away. But when the final proposal came on horseback, Wooyoung’s father was ecstatic. He celebrated for three days while Wooyoung locked himself in his room and contemplated running away. 

Fooling a queen was one thing, fooling an entire kingdom was another. Wooyoung was terrified of being found out. So he kept quiet, let Yeosang do his talking, and kept his veil down. 

“This is our private church, we will keep it vacant for the princess’ to use for the next three weeks” the attendant said, Wooyoung peered around the courtyard they were passing into. It was gorgeous. Just big enough for the church itself and a garden surrounding it. There was even a pond and benches, a wisteria tree too. It was like a slice of paradise that he’d never get to fully enjoy. 

“Thank you, if you could have the princess’ things brought here and left on the stoop-” 

“Post haste” the attendant said quickly, smiling tightly before bowing and backing away a few steps. Wooyoung bit back a laugh, watching the attendant hurry away. 

“Right twat, that one” Yeosang muttered, Wooyoung couldn’t stop the laugh that bursted out of him then. He shoved a hand against his mouth, tasting the veil as he muffled his laughter. 

“If you were nicer to him, he’d be nicer to you” Wooyoung whispered, gathering his dress in his free hand to walk up the stoop to the church. It was as gorgeous as the rest of the castle. Stained glass windows, glossy wood, high rafters. Wooyoung didn’t bother waiting for Yeosang, pushing the left door open and going inside. 

There were pews leading to a sort of dias, colorful light poured in from a wall of stained glass behind it. There were candles and silver platters scattered throughout the place, tapestries on the few walls that weren’t glass. Wooyoung quite liked it. As he explored he heard Yeosang close the door behind them, they were finally alone. 

Wooyoung plucked at the veil, pushing it up and over his head. He breathed in deeply, 

“This veil is horrifically itchy” he murmured, rubbing at his nose as he turned around. Yeosang was wrinkling his nose at a nearby table of melted candles, the wax caked to the wood. 

“This entire place is horrifically itchy” he murmured, 

“Well, it’s our home now” Wooyoung sighed, settling on the step where the dias rested at the front of the church. 

“I suppose...what do you make of your husband to be?” Yeosang asked, wandering closer but still eyeing everything in sight as if it were a blight on his very existence. Wooyoung considered his question, drawing the image of Choi San into his mind. 

Sharp features, neat hair, broad shoulders. Dimples...Wooyoung smiled a bit, 

“A shame he’s probably going to hate me after we get married, he seems sweet” he said, Yeosang finally came and settled on the front most pew, crossing his legs and folding his arms against his knee. 

“Sweet enough not to throw us in the dungeons once he’s realized what we’ve done?” Yeosang asked, Wooyoung shifted and pulled his knees up, hugging them. 

“Hard to say, I haven’t spoken a word to him” he said, 

“And you won’t” Yeosang said pointedly, Wooyoung rolled his eyes. 

“And I won’t” he agreed loosely, 

“We can’t have him figuring out that you aren’t a princess until after the wedding, Wooyoung. Orsia depends on it” Yeosang said, Wooyoung knew that well enough. It didn’t stop the disappointment from growing deep inside him. Wooyoung wasn’t a romantic, but he had his dreams. If he weren’t the eldest of his brothers, he would have liked to do something other than rule a kingdom. Travel, see the ocean, meet people that didn’t care of his blood. But Wooyoung was who he was, he was there now. He had no choice.  
He would marry Choi San, trick him, and save Orsia. 

At the cost of his own dreams. A price everyone was willing to pay...himself included, it seemed. 

“I’ll go see if that stuck up attendant has bed rolls for us, sleeping here is going to be a nightmare” Yeosang said, standing with a sigh. Wooyoung gave him an amused look, 

“Be nice to him, Yeosang, make friends” he said, Yeosang returned the look with disdain. 

“I’ll be back” he said, going down the aisle to the doors. “Do you remember the knock?” he asked, opening the door a crack just to peak out. 

“Three fast and two slow” Wooyoung recited, 

“Good, don’t let anyone see you with the-” Yeosang gestured over his face, 

“I know, Yeosang. I can manage five minutes on my own, go” Wooyoung said, shooing him. Yeosang gave him a dubious look but slipped out, leaving Wooyoung alone. 

Wooyoung turned on his bottom, peering up at the stained glass windows, blinking in their iridescent light. He scooted closer, reaching out to touch them. They were warm with afternoon light, Wooyoung smiled and pressed right against them, his side flush to the glass. It was comforting in an odd sort of way. He leaned his head against a sliver of blue and green glass, peering through it. It was hard to make anything out, but he could trace the line of hedges, a nearby statue...a person. Wooyoung’s heart jumped a bit at the sight of the figure on the sidewalk. They were facing the church, just sort of...staring. Perhaps admiring the glass. The more Wooyoung squinted through the glass, though, the more he could make out familiar details. 

The waistcoat, the trousers, the black hair and stature. If the glass were just a bit more clear he’d be able to see San’s dimples, if he were smiling anyway. Wooyoung watched him, neither of them moving. Maybe both aware of each other’s presence. Before long, though, San began to pace away from the church, head a bit low. Watching his feet, Wooyoung realized. He disappeared around the bend and Wooyoung let go of a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He leaned back, pulling his knees up to his chest. 

Choi San...he wondered what sort of person he was. 

San was never a fan of church. It was tiresome, boring. His mother used to make him go when he was young, but once his mind was truly made up about how he wanted to spend his mornings she no longer forced him to attend. Now, though, as he wandered away from the courtyard he wondered what the inside of that church steeple looked like. The person it housed, too. 

Jongho had stayed behind, in the main hall. Only because San asked him to. He wasn’t in a celebrating mood, even if Seonghwa wanted him there. He decided he’d rather sit in the music room till dinner. His entire mood had waned. 

Besides, there would be three weeks of preparation to begin tomorrow. He’d need his rest. 

“Insufferable…” San slowed his steps as he neared the turn to the music room, listening to whoever was muttering in the hall. “Am I not pedigree? Do I not have manners?” San’s lips curled at Seonghwa’s voice, he peered around the corner. He spotted Seonghwa pacing back and forth outside the music room, 

“Something on your mind, old friend?” San inquired, startling Seonghwa into a spin as he tried to face San. 

“Gracious, I’d rather not have a heart attack at my age, San” Seonghwa huffed, clutching his chest. The moment of panic passed as San approached him, amused at the sight of Seonghwa in a fuss. Seonghwa’s expression soured again, “on my mind...I’ll tell you-” Seonghwa caught his tongue as a pair of handmaids came bustling by, he gave San an imploring look as he gestured at the music room. 

For as close as San and Seonghwa were, Seonghwa would never be caught ranting to San in the halls of the castle. In the safety of the music room, however…

San had barely closed the door behind them when Seonghwa made a noise of outrage, 

“He called me a mutt!” he exploded, pacing through the music room now. Past the piano and violins to the window and back. San raised a brow as he wandered to his usual seat, his book still on the cushion. 

“Who might we be referring to?” San asked, picking up his book and setting it aside. 

“Kang Yeosang, the high priest of Orsia” Seonghwa said, rolling his eyes and wrist all at once. San snorted as he settled into his chair, “he came to me, asking for bed rolls. I offered to have a bed taken in to the church for the princess, and this man, this pure beast of a man, has the gall to wrinkle his nose at me and say ‘I’ve seen what you have to offer, we’re better off with bed rolls’” Seonghwa was seething, San watched him idly from his chair. “I couldn’t contain myself San, stars forgive me I made a comment on what his castle might have had to offer. This horrendous creature then says to me, ‘we’re of a higher breed’ and proceeds to call me a mutt, me!” Seonghwa pokes himself in the chest, as if the very thought were blasphemous. San shook his head, 

“How awful” he said, 

“Horrific!” Seonghwa blew up once more, his pacing picking up again. San stood up, 

“Seonghwa- Seonghwa” San reached out, stopping him with hands on his shoulders. “Before you wear a hole in the carpet” he sat him down on the nearby chaise lounge, Seonghwa was vibrating beneath San’s hands. “Listen, Yeosang is a permanent guest in our home now. You’ll have to find some way to get along with him” San said patiently, Seonghwa opened his mouth, closed it, and then blew air out of his nose. 

“I have class, San. I won’t stoop to his level” Seonghwa said, lifting his nose. San laughed a bit, smacking Seonghwa on the shoulders. 

“Thatta boy” San said, moving away and returning to his chair by the window. 

“I’m sorry, my outburst was unwarranted. He just...gets under my skin in the most horrible way” Seonghwa shook his head, San settled in his chair and smiled. 

“It’s good for you to be thrown off your game once in a while, Seonghwa” he said, Seonghwa didn’t seem all that amused by the thought. Then his expression became thoughtful, 

“How are you feeling about the princess?” he asked, there was San’s least favorite topic of the day. He sighed, 

“Truly downtrodden” he murmured, Seonghwa gave him a patient look. “I’m just...how long have you known me?” he asked, 

“Your entire life, practically” Seonghwa said, folding his legs over each other. 

“Then you know that I’ll always do what’s right but...I can’t help but feel like I’d be making a mistake, marrying this girl. I won’t know her, she won’t speak to me, I can’t even see her face before we wed” San scrubbed a hand into his hair, “falling in love is a fever dream for most in my position, but I’d hoped that I’d at least be able to get to know my wife before I married her” he said, 

“Well...it may not be the most ideal situation, but there must be a bright side, hm?” Seonghwa said, San wasn’t so sure…

He had seen her, pressed to the stained glass window. Curled up and alone. San wondered how lonely an existence like that must be. 

“I know” Seonghwa said, sitting up straight. “Part of the stipulations when your mother arranged the marriage was that the princess would still have to participate in the wedding planning and ceremonies, you could try to speak to her then” he said, he had a point. San supposed that was his silver lining. 

“I’ll try” San said, Seonghwa smiled brightly. 

“This will work out in the end, I’m sure of it” he said, from raging fury to overwhelming positivity. Seonghwa truly was a gem. San was grateful for him, especially now. He leaned back, peering out the window. There had to be a way to make this work…


	2. Just Shy of a Waltz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!! Don’t forget to scream at me about something! All my love!! <3

San had tossed and turned all night, dreams of red roses and white veils pestering him well into the early morning. The sun had hardly peaked over the valley when San found himself staring at the ceiling, blankets strewn across the bed and caught around his ankles. His eyes were closed but he could feel soft morning light pouring in through his windows. With it, came an epiphany of sorts.  
San was going to woo his princess, stipulations be damned. He peeled his eyes open, blinking in the light, and climbed out of bed. He got dressed, deciding that a modest approach was the best idea. So he buttoned his shirt up to the base of his throat, tucked it into his pants, and pulled on his boots before leaving his rooms.  
The castle was barely swinging into motion when he went hurrying through the halls. Everyone he passed was a bit shocked to see him out so early, but didn’t hesitate to bid him good morning. San only smiled or waved, his mission for the day clear.  
He wound his way through the halls till he reached the fifth courtyard, where the church was. He steeled himself as he went up the walkway to the stoop, he fixed his hair just in case and then knocked. There was no answer at first, then he heard steps inside. The door creaked as someone peaked out.  
“My prince” Yeosang said, looking a bit disheveled and startled. “You’re here...early” he said,  
“You know what they say about birds and worms” San said, smiling.  
“Yes, well, the princess hasn’t risen yet. And you know the stipulations-”  
“I’m actually here to speak to you” San stopped him, tired of hearing the word ‘stipulation’ let alone what followed. Yeosang blinked at him,  
“Me…” he said slowly, San nodded.  
“I can wait until you’re a bit more...put together, if you’d like. I don’t mind” he said, Yeosang’s face turned a bit pink.  
“Uh, just-just give me a moment” he said before disappearing back inside, the door slamming in his wake. San rocked on his heels a bit, whistling to himself as he peered up at the sky. He could hear shuffling inside, hushed speaking but nothing he could make out. It took a few long moments but Yeosang made an appearance not too long after. “What is this regarding, exactly?” Yeosang asked, fixing his robes as he stepped out onto the stoop, door closing quickly behind him.  
“Walk with me, if you’d please” San said, gesturing down the pass. Yeosang raised a brow but said nothing, stepping off the stoop. San walked beside him, rounding the path through the courtyard. “I don’t wish to step on your toes, or offend Princess Wooyoung. But...I’d like to know her, and I can’t really do that with all of the stipulations between us” San began, “so I just wish to ask you a few things about her. Are there things she likes? Dislikes? I’m a pretty avid reader myself” he explained, offering a dimpled smile as they slowed by the pond.  
Yeosang regarded him, shifting his gaze to the pond after a while. He seemed to contemplate something and then he sighed,  
“She likes books, fantasy mostly. Poetry too, music, horseback riding” he folded his arms, “the way to her heart is always going to be through actions, though. Her mother used to have a saying, I believe it went, ‘if a man speaks more than he moves, then he’s nothing more than a gust of wind’” he said, tipping his head back a bit to peer at the sky. San couldn’t help his chuckle,  
“Her mother seems like a wise woman, a shame I never got to meet her” he said, Yeosang’s lips twitched up. The first sign of a pleased emotion San had seen on his face since they’d arrived.  
“She was, rather audacious too. Just like her daughter” Yeosang said quietly, he turned toward San. “Prince, whatever comes of your wedding I’d like to ask a favor of you” he said,  
“Anything” San said sincerely, Yeosang cocked a brow briefly.  
“Even if you and the princess are entirely incompatible, please show her some mercy. She didn’t ask to be married off” he said,  
“Yeosang, if you’d think I’d ever-”  
“I don’t, but I hardly know you. I do appreciate our talk, though. I have to return to the princess, though” Yeosang said, gaze avoiding San’s.  
“Of course” San said, something uneasy in him now. Yeosang bowed and turned to go, but San hesitated. “Yeosang” he said, Yeosang paused and peered over his shoulder. “If I could also ask you a favor” he said, Yeosang bobbed his head. “Seonghwa, the attendant you’ve been rather...sharp with. If you could take it easy on him, he’s a dear friend of mine” he said, Yeosang’s gaze narrowed just a bit, but he smiled. If you could call it that, anyway.  
“I’ll keep it in mind” he said, finally leaving San by the pond. He breathed easy, feeling as if he’d taken a step in the right direction. The princess liked fantasy books, poetry, music, and horses. San could work with that. With dimples in his cheeks, he set off to make his next move. 

Wooyoung had hardly been awake when someone knocked at the church doors, stretching and rubbing his eyes as Yeosang got up to answer. When he heard San’s voice, though, he sat up. Fully awake as he listened. Yeosang had returned, muttering something about birds and worms.  
“I’ll be back, don’t answer the door” Yeosang whispered before disappearing through the doors, Wooyoung was left alone in half his dress and blankets. He scrubbed a hand into his hair, sighing to himself. What could San want with Yeosang..?  
He didn’t have to wait long for his answer. Wooyoung was fixing his dress and searching for his veil among his blankets when Yeosang returned. He sat back on his heels, folding his blanket back over as Yeosang approached him.  
“What did San want?” Wooyoung asked,  
“Nothing important” Yeosang said simply, sitting on the closest pew. Wooyoung raised a brow,  
“Nothing important” he repeated,  
“He just asked me some things about you” Yeosang said, Wooyoung’s stomach twisted a bit.  
“What did he ask?” he asked,  
“Hobbies and whatnot” Yeosang shrugged, Wooyoung fiddled with the edge of his blanket some.  
“What did you tell him?” Wooyoung asked, a bit nervous of the persona Yeosang was creating for him.  
“The truth” Yeosang said, Wooyoung peered at him. “Sham or not, you still have your interests and traits. Regardless of what your father may have wanted, I’m not going to present them with some candied princess to suit their wants” he said with a roll of his eyes, Wooyoung couldn’t bite back his smile. He adored Yeosang, he truly was his only friend. “Besides, he does seem like a good person. I don’t think he’ll hurt us when he finds out” he said, Wooyoung was glad to hear that.  
Wooyoung peered beneath his blanket some more, spotting his veil finally. He pulled it free of his sheets and sighed as he laid it out,  
“Should we do some sight seeing today?” he asked,  
“If you’d like” Yeosang said,  
“I would” Wooyoung said, pulling his veil over his head. “I’d also like to get out of this dress and into something fresh” he said,  
“I’ll find you something cooler to wear” Yeosang said, standing to go through their luggage. Wooyoung toyed with his veil a bit, wrinkling his nose when it itched. He rubbed it but felt a sneeze coming on, Yeosang came over with a pale yellow dress in hand. “How does this-” Wooyoung couldn’t help his sneeze as Yeosang settled in front of him, Yeosang’s entire face pinched, eyes closed. Wooyoung rubbed his nose through the veil a bit,  
“Sorry...dusty” Wooyoung murmured, Yeosang opened his eyes only to glare at him. 

San had a brilliant idea. It was so brilliant, he wasn’t even deterred when Seonghwa caught him in the main hall only to pull him toward the dance hall.  
“I’ll have a handmaid retrieve the princess, but we need to discuss placements and practice the coronation ceremony” Seonghwa said, hair neat and gaze forward as he placed San at the end of the great hall.  
“If we’re going to practice the coronation walk, why not do it in the throne room?” San asked, watching as handmaids wiped and scrubbed and polished every inch of the room.  
“Because the queen is speaking to the council, preparations need to be made for the transfer of power as well as the signing of the treaty between Sonora and Orsia” Seonghwa explained, that made sense. “Alright, now-” Seonghwa clapped sharply, “back straight, heel to toe, march slowly enough that you can make eye contact with at least two people per step” he urged San along the carpet, while San’s spirits were high he hadn’t expected his day to be swallowed by practices and placement decisions.  
Even when princess Wooyoung made an appearance later in the day, San was whisked away to the throne room to attend a meeting with his mother and the council. Before he knew it, his day was gone and the sun was setting.  
San slipped away to the music room at the end of the day, collapsing onto the lounge and lamenting his loss of time. Not to mention he was exhausted. He rubbed a knot in his left shoulder as he contemplated what to do. The sun was low but not entirely set, if he started writing a letter now how long would it take him? He heaved a sigh, long enough. Still, he sat up and went across the room to his desk.  
He pulled his parchment drawer out and plucked a piece out, taking a pen from another drawer on his left. Then he did his best to clear his mind, considering what he wanted to say. Finally, he put his pen to paper and wrote.  
He wrote questions and inquiries, he wrote things about himself and his family. His upbringing and favorite things, his friends as well. He even wrote of his day, about how he had seen her for only a moment through the doors before he was taken away to a horribly boring meeting and that was enough to sustain him. Perhaps it was forward, but his intentions were true.  
When he was done, the sun was out of sight and night time had settled across the courtyard. Even then, San crept his way through the thistle with an armful of things. Three books, a small box, and a bottle of amber liquor. He didn’t want to be caught out here this late, mostly for the sake of his own dignity. So as quiet as he could, he put the books on the stoop and laid the box on top. He set the liquor beside it with a note. Then he hurried down the pass, scooping up a rock and turning around to chuck it at the church doors before disappearing behind one of the far pillars.  
He peered out, watching the doors for movement. When they opened, Yeosang peered out, then down. He stepped out, gathering the things, then disappeared back inside. San smiled, he hoped they enjoyed his gift. He moved away from the pillar once he was sure Yeosang wouldn’t peak out and see him, then made his way back through the castle to his rooms.  
That night, he collapsed into bed with some kind of satisfaction. 

“A gift?” Wooyoung said, leaning back on his palms. Both he and Yeosang had been ready for bed when the harsh knock had come at the door. Wooyoung had almost worried something was wrong. But Yeosang returned with his hands full instead.  
“Seems so, here” he handed over the books and the box, holding onto the bottle of what looked like liquor as well as a slip of paper.  
“What’s that?” Wooyoung asked, putting the books down and holding the box curiously. Yeosang snorted,  
“San’s peace offering” he handed over the paper, Wooyoung took it and peered at the writing scrawled across it.  
‘A gift for you, Kang Yeosang, please treat my Seonghwa kindly. I hope we get along well moving forward also.’ Signed Choi San. Wooyoung giggled, putting the paper down.  
“A plea, more like” he said, Yeosang made a noise of agreement as he pulled the cork from the liquor bottle and sat on the front pew to take a sip. Wooyoung peered at the wooden box in his hands. Indiscriminate, smooth, lacquered. It was rather pretty, the wood deep and red.  
Wooyoung pushed the top open, finding that it slid rather than came off. He peered inside and couldn’t help but make a curious noise. Two pens, some ink, and a necklace. Wooyoung reached in, fishing the necklace out. He held it up, smiling a bit. It was a bird, silver and shiny with a single red gem for an eye.  
“A pre-wedding gift, how sweet” Yeosang said, still drowning in his liquor bottle. Wooyoung laid the bird in his other palm, a bitter-sweet taste on his tongue.  
“Very” he said, how sweet would San be when he found out Wooyoung’s secret, though? He put the necklace back into the box, not wanting to ruin it. He turned to the books next, sorting through them. There was one called ‘For Whom the Nightingale Sings’. Wooyoung picked it up and flipped it open, a bit caught off guard as something fell out. He peered down at his lap, a letter marked in red staring back at him.  
“Is that from him too?” Yeosang asked, leaning forward.  
“I’d assume so” Wooyoung said, putting the book aside and picking up the letter. Wooyoung’s name was written across it in an elegant hand. He turned it over and opened it, pulling out two pages worth of writing.  
“He’s practically written you a book” Yeosang snorted, sitting back again. Wooyoung gave him a look,  
“Should you really drink all that? You’re a rather rude drunk” he said, laying the pages out against his leg. Yeosang gave him a snooty wrinkle of his nose and continued to nurse his drink. Wooyoung shook his head, peering down at the letter. He began reading.  
‘Dear Princess, I’m unsure if this is breaking your accord or not but when I express to you that I’m desperate to know who you are please take it as my sincerest wishes…’  
San went on to ask a variety of questions, from Wooyoung’s favorite dessert to his least favorite smell. He also described his day, the torture of having to walk the same line over and over until Seonghwa was satisfied. The long meeting and how his thoughts drifted to him every other moment. He even wrote about the one moment they had seen each other that day. How it sustained him through the fiftieth time he walked that line and the entirety of the meeting.  
Wooyoung found himself grinning, biting the tip of his thumb and curled around his letter possessively. By the time he’d read it through for a third time Yeosang was passed out on the church pew and the moon was high in the sky, shining through the stained glass behind Wooyoung. He peered at the box, fingers tapping against his knee in thought. He chewed his lip...and then he reached for the pen. San had hidden parchment throughout the books he’d given Wooyoung, so Wooyoung pulled a page and settled back against the church dias to write.  
He answered all of San’s questions, posing a few of his own. He talked of his day as well, the standing and curtsying the handmaidens made him do. He even wrote of his nervousness. Meeting the queen again, facing the people, handling the preparation. He threw in a joke or two, especially the absurdity of Wooyoung’s hand in the wedding planning versus San’s absence. By the time he finished writing, the parchment was full front to back. Wooyoung’s eyes burned a bit too. He rubbed them as he put his pen away and folded the page into a small square. He hid it in his book and laid down, stretching his back and sighing as he let his eyes fall shut.  
Wooyoung hadn’t signed the letter as princess rather just Wooyoung...for now, he could enjoy this. 

The preparation was unending. San hardly got a moment to himself, let alone to seek out his bride to be. He also spent all his time with Seonghwa. Which was fine most days. But Seonghwa was in rare form. Snapping his fingers at maids and guards, barking orders, making sure that everything would be perfect for the wedding. San couldn’t get a word in edgewise, let alone a conversation.  
It was dance practice day, it seemed. Which meant San was standing across the room from the princess while everyone else practiced. Another stipulation, he wasn’t to even touch her hand till they were married. So there she stood, in a shimmery grey gown, beside Yeosang who looked as bored as San was.  
San wasn’t sure if he’d caught Wooyoung’s eyes, but in the hopes that he had he began doing a step on his own. Turning in a circle and bouncing in a solo waltz, he spun around and flashed her a smile. The only indication that she’d a thing he’d done was a slight twitch in her shoulders, as if she’d stifled a laugh. San marked that down as a success.  
“San, come here a moment please” Seonghwa said, startling a few nearby maids. “Ah, my prince, I mean. My apologies” Seonghwa mended quickly, turning a bit pink beneath the collar. San chuckled as he approached Seonghwa, “now, I know you aren’t to touch the princess in anyway but you do both need to practice. Once you’re wed, you’ll both be expected to do this” he said,  
“Would you like me to hold her with a broom?” San asked, Seonghwa gave him a bland look.  
“No, but I’ve talked with Yeosang much to my displeasure, and we’ve come up with a solution” he said, San raised a brow. Seonghwa beckoned Yeosang and the princess across the room,  
“Seonghwa” a voice said, San turned as Jongho approached. He wasn’t wearing his usual guards garb either, dressed down to a beige shirt and dark pants. “The guards are dressed, do you want me to bring them in?” he asked,  
“Yes, oh, Jongho” Seonghwa said, something seeming to occur to him. “I’ve got you a new partner” he said, smiling as Yeosang and the princess entered their ear shot. “Kang Yeosang, you’ll be dancing with Choi Jongho for the coronation” he said, Jongho looked between them. Yeosang met Seonghwa’s gaze, a challenge in them. Being paired with a man, while strange, wasn’t unheard of if the celebration was short dancers.  
“Alright, if you’ll teach the dance properly anyhow” Yeosang said with a sniff, Seonghwa’s jaw tightened as Yeosang brushed past him. He put a hand on Jongho’s shoulder, “do not step on my toes” he said shortly,  
“I should be saying the same to you” Jongho said, San choked on air. Yeosang pursed his lips, Jongho took his hands. “Seonghwa has taught this dance to us a hundred times, it’s traditional. I hope you’ll be able to keep up” he said, already whisking Yeosang away despite his sputter of indignance. Seonghwa sighed, resting his cheek in his palm.  
“I do adore Jongho and his stubborn loyalty” he murmured, San was swallowing the cackle that so desperately wanted to manifest. Instead he faced the princess,  
“How will we be doing this?” he asked, voice a bit unsteady.  
“Ah yes, this was our compromise” Seonghwa whisked away to a far table, dodging dancers and musicians. San tried to peer at the princess’ face, smiling softly.  
“Did you get my letter?” he asked in a whisper, leaning just a bit closer. She nodded slowly, San felt his heart skip a beat. Seonghwa was back in no time, holding up a pair of gloves and a veil similar to Wooyoung’s.  
“The stipulation is you may not touch the princess’s bare skin, I read through them thrice before approaching Yeosang on the topic. I also made sure with the princess herself-” he gestured at her, “that she would be okay dancing with you if you were guarded in the way that she was” he said, the princess nodded once more. San was relieved for that much.  
“Alright” he took the gloves from Seonghwa first, slipping them on before letting Seonghwa put the veil over his head. He smoothed it down his chest, “shall we?” he offered his hand, the princess took it and San’s skin buzzed at the feeling her hand in his. They were of similar size, he’s noticed. Even then, San was careful when he rested a hand at her waist and led the dance.  
“Count the steps, San, you’ll be leading the entire room the night of the celebration” Seonghwa said, clapping in key with the music. San knew this dance by heart, he didn’t need to count. But he did have to admit that he was a bit distracted. He fantasized of their wedding night, to be able to dance with her free of these ridiculous stipulations. To see her for the first time. And the fact that she’d gotten his letter. His heart swelled with the thought.  
They danced until the music died away and Seonghwa gave the queue for them to part, though San did so with some reluctance. Before he fully pulled away, though, the princess moved closer. Practically within breathing space. She pulled something from the edge of her glove and tucked it into his palm, curling his fingers around it.  
“Princess” Yeosang called, seeming a bit disheveled as he made his way through the dancers. The princess put a finger up to her veil, where her lips must have been. San clutched the wad of paper tightly, reaching up to pull his veil away as she was whisked away by Yeosang.  
Seonghwa approached San as they disappeared from the dance hall,  
“How was it?” Seonghwa asked, a knowing glint in his eyes.  
“Not as magical as I’d hoped but…” San opened his hand, staring at the folded page she’d left him. He smiled, chest warm. “I think she may like me, just a little bit” he said,  
“I’m glad to hear it...I do not like Yeosang” Seonghwa said bitterly,  
“I do” Jongho appeared at their side, “he’s feisty” he said, a satisfied smirk on his lips. Seonghwa gasped,  
“My Jongho? Outrage, the outrage” he threw his fists down,  
“You’re too similar, that’s why you don’t get along” Jongho said, folding his arms. Seonghwa was fit to burst, but San was hardly there. He was floating on the clouds somewhere, the letter from his princess still in his hand.  
San continued to send the princess letters, heart fluttering when she’d return them in the sneakiest ways. He was learning more and more about her each day. She was rather rough around the edges despite her appearance. Apparently, she used to hunt a lot on horseback rather than just ride. San was curious about her archery skills, considering his own were rather impressive within the castle walls.  
Days passed like this, the preparations and stipulations between them while their letters brought them closer than ever. Before long, San was truly looking forward to the day they’d wed. It was three days before the day of, that San lost his patience however.  
Their letters had never ceased passing, telling of each other’s nature. It was the third night before the wedding when San was perched in his music room, reading her latest one and losing every ounce of resolve he’s ever owned.  
‘I think about you more often than I care to admit. When I wake, before I sleep, when I bathe. I just wonder what your skin will feel like beneath my fingers, beneath my lips. I’m sorry if I’m forward but a month of this has been torture. Every day that I see across the throne room or the dance hall is like my own personal hell now that I’ve come to know who you are, what’s hidden behind those dimples. They were the first thing that ever caught my attention about you, you know…’  
San rubbed a hand across his mouth, along his jaw. He had to see her. He put the letter down, standing from his chair and rushing through the doors of the music room. Every waking thought had been smothered by her, he was well and truly in love and he had yet to say it because he had to see her. He had to look her in the eyes when he said it, when they could speak. When she could say his name.  
San hurried through the halls, ignoring the call of his name. Seonghwa. San waved him off, practically running into the courtyard. Just once, if he could just see her once. He peered up at the church, uncertainty rattling in his bones as he approached it. Yeosang wouldn’t just let him in the door, no, San had to find another way.  
He peered at the roof, curious. There was a hatch that led into the attic of the church, San only knew this because he’d hide up there as a kid. It would have to do. San went to the tree near the side of the steeple, and he began to climb. He tried not to let his better judgement get in the way. Even if it nagged at him once he was on the roof, crawling to the wooden hatch.  
He hauled it open, swatting the dust out of his face and peering inside. It was dingy and dirty, but San could see through the slats even from here.  
With some careful scoots San dropped down into the attic, holding onto the wood overhead to keep from making too much noise as his boots touched the slats. He lowered himself into a crouch and closed the hatch overhead, wincing when the wood creaked.  
“What was that?” a voice asked in a hush,  
“This church is old, it makes noises like that all the time” that was Yeosang, San was sure. He waited, unmoving and barely breathing.  
“It was louder than the usual noises” the other voice said, louder now. San’s brow furrowed in confusion, it sounded...like a man.  
“Noises are noises, Wooyoung” Yeosang said, San stiffened up. Wooyoung..?  
“I suppose…” the other man said in a mumble, “have you seen my pen? I want to finish this letter” he said, San shifted down some more, lying flat across the slats so he could peer through them now. He had to squint a bit but he could make out Yeosang lying across the first pew,  
“You put it in the same place every time you use it” Yeosang said, rolling a hand in the air.  
“Mm, it isn’t here...I’ll just use the other one” San’s gaze drifted across the front of the church, heart crawling up into his throat as he made out another figure in a blue dress. Wooyoung’s blue dress...no veil, shoulders free. San saw tan skin, short, messy black hair. They turned and San swallowed dryly. A man...Wooyoung was a man all along. Something like betrayal twisted in San’s gut, hot and angry.  
“You’re still writing letters? You’re getting married in three days, why not let up? Leave some mystery” Yeosang said, sitting up on his palms to peer at the man San thought he knew.  
“You know why” Wooyoung said,  
“Enlighten me” Yeosang responded, Wooyoung sighed as he lowered the book with the parchment laid across it.  
“In three days, San is going to know who I really am-” another bite of anger boiled in San’s gut, “-he’s not going to want to talk to me, or know me or...anyway, I just want to enjoy this. I really...I like him, more than I thought I would. So if I can have some part of him like this, then I’ll take it” Wooyoung said, voice quieting as he pulled the book closer to his lap. San’s lips twitched, hands curling into fists as he tried to sit up.  
“You really like him?” Yeosang asked, San slowed his movements, listening again.  
“Yeah...I do” Wooyoung said, voice sounding wet. San’s anger waned, just the slightest.  
“You should tell him, before the wedding” Yeosang said,  
“I can’t do that” Wooyoung sniffed, “Orsia needs me to go through with this, my feelings be damned” he said, San blinked slowly. He was doing this for his people...it made some sense. Their kingdom was small, nonexistent in comparison to Sonora. Their people were probably suffering with no trading routes or resources. They needed an ally. San was just the first sucker to take the bait. He wondered, though, how his mother hadn’t seen through this. She was the wisest person he knew, she could tell a swindler from a sinner by their breath. Yet, Wooyoung had gone right under her nose.  
“He may understand, he seems pretty smitten with you” Yeosang said, Wooyoung put the book aside, the pen too.  
“Even if he is, I’m not going to put him in a position where he’ll be forced to lie. It wouldn’t be fair” he said, San’s hesitation grew. If what Wooyoung had written in his letters was true then San...liked him. He liked that Wooyoung understood his humor and his passing thoughts, even the ones that didn’t really make sense. They liked the same books and San had been desperate to know Wooyoung without the veil and the distance, because he was more than what the letters could offer. But Wooyoung wasn’t even who San had thought he was…  
San shifted back, ready to leave. He’d seen and heard enough. He didn’t know what he was going to do, he needed time to think. He began to stand, the wood groaning softly beneath his weight. He leaned onto one foot and reached for the hatch,  
“It’s your choice Wooyoung, I just think-” there was a crack of wood, San sucked in a breath just as the slats gave way. There was a scream as San collapsed through the roof, catching a beam to slow his fall just enough that when he hit the pew beneath him only his breath was knocked from his lungs. He rolled off the pew onto the ground, coughing as wood and dust rained down around him.  
“Get help!” Wooyoung hissed,  
“Your veil!” Yeosang snapped, San got to his knees and hauled himself to his feet by the back of the pew. He blinked dust out of his eyes, finally laying eyes on Wooyoung in proper light. He had scrambled onto the step where the dias of the church sat. San must have hit his head on his way down. Because as he took in Wooyoung’s features, his big, dark eyes, full lips, a strong jaw, and even a beauty mark, San thought...he was beautiful. He was cowering on the step, eyes wide, and shawl pulled tight around him.  
“San” the way his name rolled off Wooyoung’s tongue sent a strange shiver through San, but the bitterness was overwhelming. San cleared his throat, brushing his hands down his shirt and pants.  
“I um, I’m sorry for eavesdropping” he said, “I had this urge, reading your last letter. It was like I was burning up in my own skin, I was so desperate to see you just once” he explained, avoiding anyone’s gaze.  
“San, I’m sorry” Wooyoung choked out, San finally peered at him. His eyes were full of tears, the grip he had on the fabric of his shawl was trembling. “I didn’t mean to-”  
“You-” San interrupted him, “haven’t done anything, I was never here and I never...I haven’t heard or seen anything. The roof caved in because it’s old, I’ll send Seonghwa to fetch someone to fix at soon as I can” he edged out from the pew, avoiding the fallen slats of wood. He backed toward the door a few steps, glancing at Yeosang who had stood stunned the entire time. “Your secret is safe with me, you can move him into one of the guest rooms for now. The wedding-” San’s throat tightened, “the wedding is in a few days, it’s probably better that way” he said, Yeosang blinked slowly but nodded. San turned to the door, reaching it in a few strides. His skin crawled a bit, like he was meant to say more. He couldn’t, though. All he did was open the door and leave, closing it behind himself.  
San's emotions tangled with his thoughts, his ideals flying out the window as he stormed toward his rooms. Wooyoung had lied to him, he’d lied to everyone. To save his kingdom. San couldn’t forgive being lied to, but he could forgive the reason why. San buried a hand in his hair, holding it tightly as he muttered a curse to himself. He rounded the corner and nearly smacked into someone, Jongho and Seonghwa had been coming his way.  
“San, perfect. I need you to-”  
“Not now” San interrupted, brushing past them.  
“Wh- San” Seonghwa said, San could hear Seonghwa’s steps mirroring his. Following. San shook his head, muttering to himself some more. “San, what’s going on? Is something the matter?” he asked, San could feel his frustration boiling. “San, tell me-”  
“Everything” San exploded, whirling around and stopping Seonghwa short. “I tried to fall in love, and I did. And now- Seonghwa, he’s a man” San hissed, his earlier promise disintegrating before his very eyes. Besides, it was Seonghwa. Seonghwa was different. Seonghwa blinked back at him, confused.  
“I’m not following” he said,  
“Wooyoung, the princess? She’s been lying to us, and I- Seonghwa, I’m losing my mind” San groaned, rubbing his hands down his face.  
“Perhaps you should sit” Seonghwa said, opening a nearby door and beckoning San. It was one of the libraries, small and hardly used. San stalked inside, throwing himself into one of the plush seats. “Now, explain to me what’s going on. I’ve never seen you this frustrated before” Seonghwa said, closing the door behind them. San tapped his foot, jaw working.  
“I’ve been writing letters to Wooyoung, I wanted to get to know...her” he began, Seonghwa nodded, drifting over to sit on the desk across from San. “It was going well, almost too well. He- she’s amazing, I was falling in love Seonghwa” he said, pained.  
“That’s good, isn’t it? What happened?” Seonghwa asked, genuinely concerned. San rubbed a hand across his mouth, tongue nearly burning.  
“I went to try to see her today, I snuck into the attic above the church. And I...I overheard them speaking” he said,  
“San” Seonghwa gasped, “the stipulations-”  
“Were bullshit” San snapped, his anger lashing out once more. He shook his head, “she isn’t a princess, Seonghwa, Wooyoung is a man. That’s why he wears the veil and it’s why they had all those ridiculous stipulations, it was to protect him until we were married and their kingdom had an ally. Even if I denounce him after we’re married, Orsia will still have an ally. It’s in the treaty. That’s all they wanted” he rattled off, foot tapping faster. Seonghwa was quiet, expression tight as he processed.  
“I see…” he said slowly, “what do you plan to do about it now?” he asked, San didn’t know. He put half his face in his hand, pushing hot air out his nose.  
“I’m going to go through with it” he murmured,  
“What? San-”  
“I understand why he did, it doesn’t excuse the fact but...his people need trade and they need resources. I’ll go through with it and denounce Wooyoung afterward, his secret will never have to come to light” San said, his thoughts finally coming together. Seonghwa didn’t seem entirely pleased with the course, but he nodded anyway.  
“If you’re certain” he said, San stared at the far wall, mind still roiling in the pain of betrayal and deceit.  
“I am...they shouldn’t have to suffer for their king’s discrepancies” San said quietly, Seonghwa stood up and came closer, resting a hand on San’s shoulder.  
“For what it’s worth, I know you’ll make a wonderful king” Seonghwa said, San rested a hand over his, giving it a gentle squeeze before Seonghwa withdrew. “There are still preparations to be made, I’ll let the maids know you’re not feeling well today. They won’t bother you” he said, San gave him a grateful nod. Seonghwa smiled, though his eyes were troubled. He left San with his thoughts, and those certainly were. 

Wooyoung’s nose was stuffed, his eyes burned but the tears wouldn’t stop. He kept wiping his face, sniffling.  
“Wooyoung” Yeosang said, Wooyoung made no move to acknowledge him. “Wooyoung” Yeosang said, with more urgency. Wooyoung looked up at him, face wet and red.  
“What?” Wooyoung said, voice trembling.  
“It’s alright” Yeosang said gently, Wooyoung’s lips trembled and another sob escaped him.  
“It isn’t alright, Yeosang” he wept, “it’s over, San knows the truth and-”  
“And he’s still going through with the marriage, that’s a good thing. It’s why we’re here” Yeosang said, lowering himself beside Wooyoung. Wooyoung wiped his face again,  
“But…” he coughed,  
“You really did like him, didn’t you?” Yeosang murmured, Wooyoung laughed humorlessly.  
“I’ve said as much, haven’t I?” he said sharply, Yeosang folded his arms, putting his head down a bit. Wooyoung felt more guilt flush him, “I’m sorry I...I’m just upset, I had it in my head for a moment that maybe he would’ve still...wanted me. I don’t know what I was thinking” he whispered, pulling his knees to his chest.  
“You were hopeful, you can’t be faulted for that” Yeosang said,  
“I was a fool” Wooyoung said bitterly,  
“Mm, perhaps” Yeosang said, Wooyoung made an affronted noise but Yeosang was smiling at him. “Let’s just get you dressed so we can move you into a guest room, at least we’ll get to sleep on actual beds for a few days” he said, laying a hand on Wooyoung’s back. He let go of a soft breath,  
“Alright” he relented, already feeling around for his veil. There was a knock at the church doors, startling them both.  
“I’ve got it, stay here” Yeosang said softly, standing and rushing through the church to the door. Wooyoung found his veil and threw it over his head, fixing it and pulling his shawl over his shoulders. “Wait, Seonghwa-” Wooyoung glanced up as Seonghwa barged his way into the church, Wooyoung’s stomach knotted with fear.  
Seonghwa stared down at him, something unreadable in his gaze. Yeosang closed the doors and hurried toward them,  
“I understand you’re still royalty” Seonghwa began, “but there is something unforgivable in what you’ve done” he said, Wooyoung felt his chest tighten. “San truly put his heart into those letters, he wanted to fall in love desperately. He was willing to find what he was looking for in you and you-”  
“Betrayed him” Wooyoung finished, voice rough. He reached up, pulling the veil from his head as fresh, hot tears rolled down his face. Seonghwa’s face barely betrayed what he was feeling, but Wooyoung could see the twitch of shock on his brow. “I don’t think I could ever apologize enough for hurting him, you know” he croaked softly,  
“You couldn’t” Seonghwa agreed quietly, “I’ll take you to your new room, a maid will bring your things up later” he said, moving back a step. Wooyoung nodded, something like defeat stowed inside him as he moved to gather the books and letters San had left him. He felt wrong for keeping them, but just as he’d settled for having a piece of San in them before, this was all he’d ever have of him now. Seonghwa eyed the letters as Wooyoung folded them methodically, hiding them in each of his books.  
“I’m sorry to you too, Seonghwa. I know you’re close to San” Wooyoung said quietly, picking his veil up.  
“He means very much to me, but I’m not the one you should be apologizing to” Seonghwa said, he was right. Wooyoung clutched his books to his chest, veil in one hand as he moved toward Yeosang.  
“You could cut him some slack, you know. This wasn’t his choice-”  
“It’s alright” Wooyoung stopped him, handing the veil over. Yeosang frowned but said nothing more, fixing the veil and put it over Wooyoung’s head. Making sure he was presentable. Wooyoung let go of a soft breath, shifting the books in his arms. He nodded and Seonghwa gestured, letting them move ahead. Each step Wooyoung took made the stone in his chest sink deeper into his stomach.


End file.
